


Green Met Gray

by TheDiamondTyrant



Series: Ned Stark Deserved Better [8]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon Divergence - Tourney at Harrenhal, F/M, Minor Jaime Lannister/Lyanna Stark, NSDB, Ned Stark Deserved Better, Tourney at Harrenhal, switching POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:08:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23984329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDiamondTyrant/pseuds/TheDiamondTyrant
Summary: A look at a Harrenhal Tourney that can change the fate of all involved.
Relationships: Cersei Lannister/Ned Stark, Jaime Lannister/Lyanna Stark
Series: Ned Stark Deserved Better [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1087515
Comments: 32
Kudos: 277





	Green Met Gray

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Well here’s another one. I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> This story has a switching POV
> 
> Let’s see how it goes.
> 
> This story has no editor, so all mistakes are mine.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own GoT/ASOIF (Game of Thrones/A Song Of Ice and Fire) or any of its characters, I’m just writing my story in their world.

* * *

It was a sea of people unlike the which they had ever seen. He had seen pictures of great tourneys, and even in their home far in the North he had seen a crowded main hall. Yet this was something different almost in its entirety. The castle itself was as large as a castle town and then some. He would not admit to anyone that he was fascinated by the colors that seemed to sneakily display themselves across metal, silk, hair, and jewels as people moved throughout the great hall. There was feasting and dancing, and the heat was almost uncomfortable, and yet he was having fun, no matter what Brandon said about his supposedly dour face.

“I see you are enjoying yourself sweet Ned.” The voice of his sister, Lyanna, broke him from his wandering thoughts, and he couldn’t help the smile.  
  


“Indeed I am, Lya.” His answer was simple, much like himself, and it bore a comfortable silence as the two of them watched the sea of people move around. 

They watched the crowd for only a short moment before his cup was taken from his hand, and Lyanna was pulling him toward the section of the hall to where a large group of people were dancing. 

“Lya, you know I can’t dance.” Ned tried to dissuade her before they had taken many steps forward, but it was no use, Lya always seemed to be able to convince him to go along with her plans. 

“You always dance with me Ned, and only stepped on my toes once!”

That was how Ned found himself dancing with his sister in time with the music, with a red face that was not entirely from the wine or the dancing.

8 8 8

Dancing was not something to be enjoyed. Her father had taught her that it was unbecoming to enjoy such frivolous activities. It was, however, something to endure when one had to make fake pleasantries. As such she had danced more in the evenings they were in Harrenhal than ever before in her life. She spun and twirled with perfect timing that would put any man or woman to shame, and she out danced all her partners throughout the night. The dance she was enduring had her switching partners with each change in the tune, and with it the movements changed as well. She danced fast with men and slowly with women, and the opposite was true as well. The problem was her feet were aching as well as her legs, but a Lannister never showed weakness and so she ignored the discomfort and kept dancing with the perfectly fake smile on her face. 

She danced until she couldn’t feel her toes and that was when disaster struck her perfect routine. Or so she thought. As her knee buckled when she was twirling to a new partner, strong, warm hands caught her waist mid spin and her feet left the ground as she was lifted and spun around in a wide circle. It took her many moments to adjust to the new sensation of being twirled as the tune of the song changed to something slow once more. Her new partner gently placed her on her feet and she finally got a chance to look at her savior. Green met gray and the redness on her face was perhaps more than embarrassment at her near fall or the fact she was exhausted. 

“Are you alright my lady?” The man’s voice was deeper than she expected, and it was obvious from his accent and pale skin he was of the North. The gray eyes, dark hair, and the direwolf emblem on his chest told her he was a Stark.

“Of course I am, my lord. A lady is always fine.” Her voice was not the usual condescending tone she took, and she blamed it on her tiredness. Either way the smile she got from her words made her keep her mouth shut for the first time in her life. 

“Of course, my lady.” 

His hands were still on her waist and she did not tell him to remove them. Yet his eyes seemed to captivate her in a way that no one else had done before. The most curious thing was his gaze was not full of lust as so many men and even women had looked at her with. They were not on the dance floor anymore, they were standing along the outer edges of the room, and it struck her that was why she could not find her balance when being spun. This man, this Stark, had not only caught her but he had gracefully extracted them from the dance floor without shaming either one of them. 

“Would you care to sit at our table for a while Lady Lannister?” he asked and his voice was soft as was the smile and she had nodded before she thought about it. 

He offered his arm and she gracefully took it. The table he led them too was more secluded than she thought was possible in the crowded hall. Many wild things were seated there. She recognized at least two of them immediately, mostly by reputation and the proximity to the Stark table. The first was the tall and strong Robert Baratheon. He was as handsome as the rumors said him to be. He was a maiden's dream for sure, yet the hand that fondled the breasts of one of the serving girls made her want to sneer in disgust. The second was the equally tall, but broad Brandon Stark, Heir of Winterfell, the Wild Wolf he was called. His hands were not attached to a maid but his eyes told her she was nothing but a piece of meat in his eyes. She found it hard that the man whose arm she held was related to the man. 

She found herself seated at the far end of the table and her pride flared up and she was about to show these wolves and stag why they should fear lions, but before she could show her claws a cup of wine was in her hands and a young woman's face filled her vision.

“You’re beautiful.” The Northern accent coming from the girls mouth was soft and charming if one liked simple things. Cersei was truly out of her element, the Starks seemed to have that habit of catching her off guard with their accent and their eyes, and their smiles. Or at least the girl and her savior did. Her spine tingled unpleasantly at the way Robert and Brandon stared at her chest.

“Thank you.” her reply was slow, and she mentally slapped herself, surely they were thinking her dimwitted for such a reply and she tried to recover. “You are a beauty yourself Lady Stark.”

That made both of the younger Starks smile and for some unknown reason it caused Cersei to give them a genuine smile that she hid behind her cup of wine. The girl turned a red that complimented her pale face, and Cersei saw a chance in the future where the girl would be a rival in beauty to her.

“I apologize, my lady, I’ve not introduced myself.” Again the gruff voice and the Northern accent caught her attention. “I am Eddard Stark, and this young lady is my sister Lyanna.”

Cersei understood then why she did not recognize them. Younger siblings were hardly recognized outside of their homes and women perhaps more so. Even though she was older than her brother she was overlooked time and time again for him. 

“Greetings Lord and Lady Stark. I am Cersei Lannister.” She enjoyed the way their eyes widened ever so slightly. Eddard did not seem as surprised, as he had called her Lannister already but perhaps he did not truly realize just who he had held onto so protectively. Stark and Lannister had never gotten along, yet they had been nothing but polite to one another since their impromptu meeting. 

She thought for a single moment that the politeness would come to an end, for their fathers had more than once entered into pissing matches, but it was Lyanna who raised her cup to Cersei.

“To new friends Lady Cersei.” 

They all took a large drink as the consequences of the action were pondered by Cersei Lannister and Eddard Stark.

8 8 8

Lya watched as her gentle older brother moved deftly through the motions of the dance as she rested. She only felt a little bad about leaving him to fend for himself on the dance floor with strangers. Her feet were killing her, unused to so many turns dancing. She was about to go and fetch him, when she saw him move with ease to catch a beautiful woman in a red dress. The woman looked ready to fall down, and Ned must have seen it as well, for when the lady had barely listed to one side, her brother had lifted her easily and they spun away from the dance floor. Her brother was hardly one to intervene in such situations but he had moved with a grace that she assumed she got from his time in the Eyrie with the Arryns. The mention of the Arryns had her look back at the table Brandon had claimed. Robert was there as was Elbert, friends of Ned from his time fostering. 

She turned her head back to watch Ned though, he was far more interesting at the moment. She saw his hands had not moved from the ladies waist and both were wearing smiles. Ned hardly ever smiled at anyone and so Lyanna thought perhaps her brother had fallen in love at a mere glance, but that did not sound much like him either. Ned was the most cautious of them all. He never did anything without thought, and that was why she decided to help him when the woman and her brother walked toward their table. 

The silence was comfortable as they sipped their wine. Then the air turned tense when the woman introduced herself. Ned’s eyes turned just the slightest bit cold and Lyanna jumped at the chance to intervene, stealing a cup of wine from the table and gave a toast.

To new friends. As the air lessened in tension Lyanna patted herself on her back at her cleverness, and perhaps she thought the two people before her would go well together. For that was one thing she and Ned surely shared, though only they knew it. They were romantic at heart and longed for something to heat the ice in their veins.

To new friends, indeed. 

8 8 8

His sister was a devil woman, and he would be sure to rub his knuckles into her head when he got back to their rooms. He had been tricked, duped, and possibly bamboozled by his dear Lyanna. The fact was, he was not actually upset. The lady that had her arm wrapped around his own was beautiful, and he knew many men who would kill to be in his position. The only problem was she was a Lannister and he was a Stark. There was a long history of tension between their houses, yet they had gotten along before knowing how prominent each were in their Houses. Ned would play nice but keep his guard up, and would of course respect the fact that Cersei was one of the most beautiful women he had laid eyes on.

Lyanna had somehow convinced Cersei to walk around Harrenhal sometime in the last night, but had feigned being sick from the wine and instead convinced Ned to take Cersei on the exploration. It was not the act itself which made him sigh but rather the fact his sister had duped him twice in as many days. 

“Surely walking with me is not such a bother Lord Stark, to be sighing so much?” 

The words held an edge that reminded him of a knife held to the apple of his throat. Once misstep and he would bleed out.

“No Lady Cersei. I am merely upset that my sister tricked us into this situation. Though a part of me is proud of her cleverness.”

“You should be proud, Lord Stark, a woman’s wits are her most valuable weapon, and they can be armed with that at all times.” 

Ned frowned, in thought, at Cersei’s words, as they walked and she seemed content in the silence. Their walk was aimless more than with a purpose as his mind worked, and he found Cersei Lannister to be correct in her words. 

“Aye, Lady Cersei, I think you are correct, and pardon if I’m being too forward, but I see you are well armed in this regard.”

Ned surely did not need to be told to not mention the small gape of her lips and the redness on Cersei’s cheeks, but he would surely remember the beautiful sight of Cersei Lannister surprised as long as he lived. 

8 8 8

Cersei found Ned to be an amusement of sorts, one that was different than any she had encountered before. He was polite, and not polite how the court men and women were polite. No he seemed to be a genuinely nice person, and her thoughts were how he would be eaten alive by the vipers in King’s Landing. Yet he held himself easily, but his eyes were as guarded as her father's face. Yes Eddard Stark was polite but he was also a Wolf of the North, that has flown with Falcons, and ran with Stags. She idly wondered if any others knew this almost conniving side of the otherwise seemingly infallible honorable man who sat with her through the gardens of Harrenhal. 

She liked and held close the feeling of being the only to know of his hidden side.

They were playing a simple game of Cyvasse as the others in their party drank and joined in the pre tourney festivities that spread throughout the gargantuan castle. They moved their pieces one after another, and Eddard’s serious face was proving difficult to penetrate, even after she had purposefully lowered the top of her dress. He had noticed, and she knew he had but that was the only reaction she had gotten from the soft spoken man. It was enough to infuriate her if she didn’t find it, in a way, novel and refreshing to not be looked at like the only thing she was good for was her womb. 

With only another few moves, Eddard had won, and her ears turned red in embarrassment at having lost to a novice, but it was quickly washed away when she looked into the gray eyes of the victor. 

“I do believe, according to your description, that I have won this game, Lady Cersei.”

She tilted her head in admission to her defeat and to hide her reddened cheeks, the smooth fool already using the spoils of his victory. He had asked if perhaps they could use their given names when addressing the other, Cersei had of course pridefully refused. Yet the saddened storm gray eyes had convinced her to wager it as the result of a game. Cersei of course, knew that Eddard had no ill intentions, but he had complimented her wits more than once and she had sharpened them against much more ill meaning men and women alike. She thought her chances of victory were inevitable, the man didn’t even know how to play.

“Indeed you have Lord Eddard. Feel honored for only my family and the royal family have the honor of addressing me as Cersei.” 

“Of course Lady Cersei, I shall treasure this gift as if it were all the gold and jewels in the land.” His response was one she had never heard before, and she believed him, his smile making his face softer, less angular and as such she found him, for a moment, attractive.

She spent more time with his family and friends than she did her own, her brother too busy preparing for the tourney to have paid any mind to her, and her father would not be caught at Harrenhal without a vastly useful reason. She found herself intrigued by the Starks and how they seemed truly like a family and not just as chips or pieces on a board their father controlled. Cersei only saw her family's flags when she walked to her tents, outside the walls of the castle, by Eddard. 

They walked slowly, Eddard setting the pace in a manner he usually did not, as she found herself curious as to why he slowed, as if he did not wish for their time to end. True she no longer saw the wall of ice his eyes held, but she still could not read his thoughts like she could other men. Perhaps it was because before her was a man that did not primarily think with what was between his legs, or maybe it would be more accurate to say he did not let it rule him as Robert Baratheon and Brandon Stark did.

They stopped in one of the long hallways before the entrance to the courtyard where her family’s men and tents were, the moon shining through the large windows and Cersei looked up in the darkened eyes of her escort, noticing how the moon was reflected in them, moonlight reflected in those pools of gray like the stars shone off the sea at her home. 

His hand was raised and it plucked a small delicate flower, a red and white flower. She found herself even more confused as he presented it to her with a small bow.

“Lady Cersei, fairest of all the land, would you do me the great honor of accepting this flower?” His voice was soft, quiet, and seemed to travel down her spine as their eyes met. 

Her body moved on its own, nodding and one of those large hands that had easily moved pieces on a board earlier in the day gently cupped her face as the other gently placed the flower in her hair, above her ear. 

“I know only a few flowers, but this one grows even in the North. It is known for its elegant beauty, but also the strength with which is needed to survive in cold and often harsh land. I could not help but think it suited you perfectly Cersei.” 

They were much closer together than they had been, their breaths mingling with ease. She could smell the scent of the sweet mead they had drank throughout their time together, but she knew neither of them were drunk enough for this to happen without thought. She thought the flower was pretty, and knowing of its meaning from his home caused her cheeks to feel hot, and that too was not from the wine. She almost found herself without a reply as their gazes stayed true to one another, but she was as sharp in her tongue as she was in the wit Eddard seemed to like so much and she latched onto his words like a drowning man clung to a rope.

Her fingers curled tightly into the fabric of his shirt, and with a gentle tug their bodies were pressed together as tightly as thread was woven for clothing. Her voice was soft and breathy, even to her own ears.

“That is _Lady Cersei_ to you, _Eddard_.” 

Green and gray eyes closed in tandem as their lips touched. Strong arms encircled her waist and her own fingers curled in the long hair at the top of his head.

When they broke their battle of lips and tongue, they were both left panting in ways neither had truly experienced. Her face and body felt hot and flushed just from a single kiss, and Eddard seemed to be in much the same shape. His mouth opened and she knew he would say something horribly honorable and so instead she covered his mouth with her own once again. 

His back being pressed against the wall of the lonely hallway, where the moonlight shone and beautiful flowers grew. His hand found her waist and squeezed with an appropriate amount of strength, every bit the calm and smooth wolf of the North she had come to know in a few short days. Her hands were less still, perhaps even frantic as they roamed his broad chest.

In the end their hands found one anothers as their kisses turned less heated and more soft, with a passion that smoulder like coals. They were nothing like a fire, that burned and destroyed in an instant, no they were like coals, where warmth emanated as softly as they touched one another in the lone hallway, where the moonlight shone, beautiful flowers grew, and where House rivals found something new and untold. 

8 8 8

He did not let anyone know of what happened the night before the tourney started, nor had he avoided Cersei, or rather _Lady Cersei_ as she had corrected him. She was truly a Lioness, taking what she pleased, even from something as dangerous as a Wolf. Of course, it was his own fault, he let himself be stolen from, let the Lioness sink her claws into him, and he felt his heart shudder at the thought of her, and they had only kissed in a lonely hallway. Ned wondered if he could walk through the similarly barren halls in Winterfell or the Eyrie without his cheeks turning red.

All this ran through his head as his sister screeched his name, pleading for mercy that should never come. He did not use his full strength as he locked her head to his side with his arm and used his free hand to rub his knuckles on the crown of her head. Brandon laughed at their antics and Benjen had a look on his face that was between concerned and amused. 

Their guards of course merely poked their heads through the tents flaps before returning to their post. Such was the life of the Starks, they were all wild, some more open than others, but they were a family no less.

“I said I’m sorry Ned!” Her voice was a whiny scream and he finally stopped his teasing.

“I accept your apology dear sister. I hope you learned your lesson.”

She mumbled something under her breath that Ned couldn’t hear and he raised an eyebrow and her face turned red before she smiled sweetly. Ned let her go out of the head lock and drank fully from the flagon of wine on the table in their tent. He would be participating in the melee with Robert in the afternoon with Brandon joining the Jousts in the following days. 

His nerves almost made his hands shake, but he had been training with one of the strongest men in the Realm for years. Yet he knew there was no real joy or particular honor in playing at war as his father was fond of saying. Yet that very same man told his two oldest sons to participate and Ned, while perhaps not the smartest, had spent enough time with Jon Arryn to see an inconsistency when there was one. His father had plans, Southern plans if Brandon's betrothal to Catlyn Tully was any indication. His father as well seemed to like the thought of matching Robert and Lyanna. Ned still felt a hole of guilt in his stomach for being the one who carried the parchment with the request to Winterfell.

Still, he pushed such thoughts to the side, he had to be calm and focused or risk being injured more severely than was necessary. For the melee would have real steel and armor. His gaze focused on the wolf helm he was to wear, it’s gray the same gray as his family’s eyes. 

The eyes on the helm were intricate as if one really was staring down one of the legendary beasts that once ruled the North, and Ned had to will his gaze away as he was called by the guards. It was time to get ready for the melee.

8 8 8

Jaime watched with a certain amount of fascination as his dear sister looked over the crowd of men and women that were slowly gathering for the melee. He would not be taking part, instead having joined the jousts, the only fun thing he would probably find during the whole hound and horse show. 

He knew he would more easily garner attention in the jousts, and that was what a Lion such as himself deserved, for all attention to be on him and him alone as he won the joust in the biggest tourney in recent realm history. Still, for his sister to be so distant when eyes were not on them was different. They were close, perhaps not as close as they had been when their bodies were first changing but when their father had found out, Jaime shuddered and his back felt a phantom of the pain where scars now were. 

So he watched patiently, a hard task for his hot blood, to see what would cause his dear sister to search so intently on the melee field. They were seated high in the boxes, as befitted their Houses station, no other House could claim such a long history. Jaime of course was reminded of one House that could as his sister moved forward just a bare inch as her eyes seemed glued to someone. He followed the gaze that had him curious and saw a man in the gray and blue of House Stark. Jamie could not accurately judge the height of the man from afar, but he could not mistake the Direwolf helm he sported, nor could he believe that the man walked their way with determination. It seemed Jaime was not the only one curious about such staring.

Though they were seated above the Northman Jaime could tell even if they were of similar height the man who Cersei’s eye had been glued to was wider, with muscle filling him out. The helm was removed. Gray eyes fitted on a long pale face that was covered in stubble. 

Eddard Stark, second son of Lord Rickard Stark. Jaime almost laughed at it all. Only his sister would find such a wild thing to entertain her. Surely that was all it was, and Jaime almost felt bad for the supposedly honorable second born Stark. His sister, he knew better than anyone, could be very cruel as she played her games. Lannister and Stark had never been on the best of terms, and Jaime, who had the least politics bred into his bones, now knew it would continue after his sister scorned the man in front of him. 

His mouth hung open for enough time for a bug to fly in and back out as his sister stripped a piece of cloth from her dress and tied it tightly around the wrist of Eddard Stark. Her lips close to his ear whispering something he couldn’t catch. Jaime regained his composure and watched as Eddard’s face turned red before the helm covered it and he jogged back to his spot before the melee began. 

“What, dear sister, was that?” Jaime’s voice was as bewildered as his brain, and he was glad no one was around to hear it. 

He was surprised when Cersei’s eyes widened and she looked at him with red tipped ears. He smirked, oh he had leverage now, not only was she embarrassed, he had caught her by surprise, and she had been so caught up in giving her favor, an honor not even he had gotten. Jaime Lannister was wrong. He was indeed going to have fun even when not jousting. 

8 8 8

She watched as he moved easily in the mud and between the bodies of men swinging swords and punching one another. His wolf helm made him as much a target as the large horned helm that Robert Baratheon wore. She did not care much for the progress of the Lord of the Stormlands. His sword batted away those of lesser skill, and he forced them to yield with little effort.

She flinched when he took what appeared to be a nasty hit to the side from a flail, but her body relaxed when he rolled along the ground and stood strong again, his sword ready to defend him. He also forced the lucky man to yield and continued his slow stalking of the combatants, every inch the calm and quiet wolf she knew him to be. 

She watched Robert Baratheon when she lost sight of Eddard, and watched as his drunken body easily overpowered the men who stood in front of him. He had blood dripping down his face from where someone’s helmet had met his forehead when he hit them square with it.

Soon only a handful of men stayed within the circular, muddy field. The red of the cloth tied to her brother's wrist was still easy to see even with him covered in mud. He had just punched one of the only remaining men into their dreams, and Lyanna cheered along with her two other brothers and their guards as the second born son of Rickard Stark stood tall, brave, and honorable in front of the much larger, drunken Robert Baratheon. 

They circled one another, and Lyanna remembered Ned telling her Robert was more dangerous drunk than sober, and she knew it to be true when his hammer came down and hit the mud with such force it seemed to shake the ground around the arena. Ned had moved, and she watched as her brother fought seriously for the first time in her life. He moved, slid, ran, circled, jumped, and dodged as many swings and slams of the giant hammer as he could. He had lost his helm as it had been knocked off, blood pouring down half his face from the blow. Robert’s face was red from the wine and perhaps hidden rage at not beating Ned as he had done many times before. 

Ned for his part seemed only winded, and when he struck back it was with the force and finality of a man who had seen enough to know no good would come of prolonging a fight. He struck with speed, his sword catching the momentum of the hammer and slung both of them far away, though her brother had surely planned that as he rolled inside Robert and his legs curled to send him upward, his skull meeting the bottom of Robert’s chin, toppling the big man with a thump as he landed in the mud, dazed and unable to continue fighting.

The crowd and especially the Stark party erupted in cheers as a weary Eddard Stark stood in the center of the arena, breathing harshly as he looked around, seemingly confused as to where he was. 

Lyanna looked across the arena to the Lannister booth and caught sight of golden haired twins standing and clapping along with the rest of the people in attendance. Lyanna joined her two brothers as they walked down to meet Ned as he was handed a bag of gold, a sword with a black blade, and a small golden medallion as his winnings.

They promised to meet up after Ned had a chance to clean up, though even her somber faced brother could not completely mask his surprise and perhaps happiness at winning something, it was part of his charm.

They had a small room for the victor to rest in, and Lyanna waited there with Brandon and Benjen, the servants of the castle working hard to bring out the meal and wine. Her brother entered the room with barely a whisper of noise, if not for the large door creaking as it opened in a confusingly slow quick pace. Her first observation was he was dressed in cleaner clothes, with his new sword at his side, looking as if it belonged there, on the hip of a Noble Man.

The second was he was not alone, no on his arm, he escorted the woman wearing a dress the same color of red as the now damp and clean red strip that still covered her brother's wrist. Cersei Lannister, she had met and they had talked and Lyanna thought them friends, though obviously Cersei and Ned were closer than he let on. The other Lannister she only knew by reputation and the fact his face was unfairly pretty for a boy, he was obviously the twin of Cersei, Jaime Lannister. 

8 8 8

Ned was not the only person surprised he had won a melee, his first ever win of a melee and the first time he had truly beaten Robert. He had been engulfed by his family when he had exited the arena, and he couldn’t stop the smile as Brandon clapped him hard on the back, smile full of teeth and Lyanna hugged him. Benjen gave him a firm shake of the hand, though he too was all smiles. 

He was handed a bag of gold and a sword with a blade as black as the night sky, and upon his neck they placed a gold medallion with Harrenhal etched upon it. He had to admit, to himself at least, that it felt really good to have something to call his own, something he earned with the hard work he had done. Surely his father would be proud of him for bringing honor to House Stark in the South. He shook the thoughts from his head, knowing it would do him no good to think about it now.

He excused himself from his family, and was led to a small room to clean himself off. He stripped his mud covered clothing and ran the cleaning cloth over his skin. It was scented, and reminded him of the clean smell of the air of his home. He pulled the strip of red off his wrist and carefully cleaned it in a bowl of water, leaving it out to dry as he finished his impromptu bath. 

Clean clothing was left out for him, and he assumed servants had retrieved it from the men and women of House Stark that had accompanied them. He pulled them on quickly realising not a small amount of time had passed since he separated from his family, making sure to tie the red favor to his wrist once again. He left the small room and followed the guard that was sent to escort him. 

He wondered if perhaps life was trying to tell him something as he, quite literally, ran into the woman that his mind had been thinking of. He caught her easily, keeping her steady as gray met green. 

“Lady Cersei. Are you alright? I’m sorry for bumping into you.” His voice sounded different to his own ears, deeper than he normally spoke, and he enjoyed the way her cheeks turned a slight shade of red. He seemed to cause her to do that a lot.

“I am fine, Lord Eddard. Thank you for catching me.” her eyes still held his, and her fingers dug slightly into the tunic he wore. 

A polite cough broke the spell and Ned looked away into a similarly colored pair of green eyes.

“Jaime Lannister.” again Eddard's voice was different, though this time it held an edge.

“Eddard Stark.” his tone was more jovial, as if he had just witnessed something truly amusing. 

Ned and Cersei moved a respectable distance from one another, both seemingly embarrassed about whatever the moment had brought between them. Ned offered her his arm and invited the twin Lannisters to come with him, afterall he was wearing a favor from the esteemed Cersei.

As they walked, following the guard, Ned took his time to observe the woman on his arm. He did not have much time before the melee to truly appreciate how beautiful Cersei Lannister was in her red and gold dress. It seemed to make her green eyes more pronounced. When she learned he was to partake in the melee she had demanded of him to speak to her before it began. Like some sort of puppy he obeyed, and perhaps had he been more prideful he would feel ashamed, but his brother and Robert were correct about one thing. It usually helped a man live a better life to listen to what beautiful women say. 

He had not expected to win, and had no real intention of trying as hard as did. He never truly tried before. But her whispered words after she demanded his wrist had him feeling foolish. He dared not even think of them, afraid perhaps it had all been a dream, yet a new sword hung on his hip, a medallion bounced on his chest, and his chest now held a bag of gold that was solely his. 

Ned found it ironic that the room he entered with the Lannisters to meet his family was just around the corner from a lonesome, flower hanging hallway.

Though Ned found wine being forced in his hands by the people gathered to celebrate his victory, only a handful he truly knew, and what a turn his life took that Lannister’s were counted among those people, or rather one Lannister. Jaime seemed to find himself in the company of Lyanna and Ned could feel the urging of his inner beast to protect her, but when Lyanna laughed at something the Young Lion said, the burning cooled. Lyanna had never laughed at anything Robert had said. Soon enough he found himself distracted from his sister all together when Cersei sat by his side. He could see the eyes on them, surely rumors would spread now.

“Lord Stark, you were quite impressive in the melee, it surely came as a shock to all when you toppled a giant of strength such as Lord Baratheon.” her voice was different than usual, and Ned wondered what game she was playing at.

“It was mere luck Lady Lannister, and I have you to thank for such luck. I fear I would have been soundly beaten had you not bestowed your favor upon me.” He was not a man who sought glory as many others did, and his answer was the truth, he had never beaten a drunk Robert, and the only thing different was Cersei was there. 

Both of their flushed faces were quickly hidden behind their cups of wine when a cheer arose from the crowd that watched them, cheering for something no one truly understood.

8 8 8

Stark and Lannister, a pair of Houses with a bad history without any good in between, yet the Tourney of Harrenhal seemed to be changing it, slowly, and little by little two different Starks and two different Lannisters walked down different paths, that were so close they could be confused for the same as they were in the same direction. 

8 8 8

Cersei had more wine in her belly than she normally drank, and she blamed the stupid, foolishly, and maybe handsome Eddard Stark. If she were more sober she would of course realize it was more the heir to Winterfell’s fault, but Cersei could admit she didn’t much care about the oldest Stark. No, her mind, while slightly cloudy from wine, only cared for the man whose hands were so very warm as they held her own. He seemed to be holding his own against the wine in his belly, and she didn’t like that. No Wolf should hold something over a Lion, no matter their differences.

“I’ve decided, Eddard, you are more drunk than I.” her words were slightly slurred, and the smile on his face annoyed her. 

“You’ve decided, have you Lady Cersei?” his voice was stupidly warm as he whispered into her ear. 

They were alone in the room, no reason to whisper yet they did, like bandits in the night.

“Yes. I have decided, and you shall accept it.”

“Very well my lady, I am more drunk than you, who is so wise in the ways of oneself.”

His words confused her, but his smile told her whatever he said was not meant to sting, and as such she took it as a small victory. 

The silence they found themselves in was comfortable, and Cersei remained oblivious of the fact they leaned on one another while sitting in the room that only held them. She may have decreed him more drunk, as a way to sooth her own foolish, drunken pride, but Cersei felt safe to relax around Eddard. He would do nothing to harm her, she was certain of that fact. Both of their bodies were relaxed, and her body was comfortably positioned to his side with his arm around her shoulders, his fingers idly, unknowingly playing with a loose strand of her braid. 

“Eddard-” she began to say.

“Ned, please call me Ned.” his eyes were dark in the dimly lit room, the fire having burned down to a mere flicker of flame and smouldering coals, and she could not deny him his request.

“Ned then.”

“Cersei.” 

She didn’t reprimand him, no her tongue was now much too busy invading his mouth to reprimand him. To scold her Ned now would be useless, he had claimed a part of her without knowing it, and as his warm hands held her face so tenderly, she knew, she had claimed something inside of him. 

The worries of the world, their differences in status as a first born daughter and second born son, the tense relations their Houses have had for forever, the stupid pretense this Tounrye was for, the foolishly mad King, the lords using their children as pawns, it all melted away.

They would do nothing untoward, Ned made sure of it, but he did not stop her as she pushed his back against the seat of the large lounge chair they shared. He did not stop her as her lips came down onto his. She did not stop him as he undid her braid with surprising ease and gentle care. They did not say anything as they laid on the comfortable chair, his strong arms held her securely to him, her head tucked beneath his chin, their fingers intertwined, his so much warmer than her own. She cursed mentally at herself. She had done something as foolish as fall in love with a clever and honorable man within a few days. For all her talk, she still had a heart, and it beat incessantly for the man that held her strongly, that looked at her gently but did not treat her as if she would break. He complimented her wits and sharp tongue, and she gave him her favor, something many had sought after. She had told him of a reward if he won the melee, and she was truthful in her promise. 

If only the Proud She Lion of the Rock had the courage to tell the Quiet Wolf it was her heart which he now unknowingly held. 

8 8 8

She had never been escorted to her rooms by someone that wasn’t family. Brandon and Benjen walked ahead of them but she was holding onto the arm of the unfairly pretty Jaime Lannister. She kept sneaking glances at him, she had never seen him up close, and she had the urge to take his face into her hands and study his face. Of course that was the wine she had drank, and as wild as she was she wouldn’t embarrass herself or her family by doing that to the heir of a major House. So she settled for her quick glances. His nose turned up slightly at the end and his chin and jaw seemed sharp enough to cut glass, giving him a handsome profile. His face was much different from her family’s long plain face. Though she had been called beautiful she found it paled in the beauty of a man of all things. It stung when a woman was more beautiful, but for a man to be prettier she felt her pride weep.

“Stupid pretty face.” She mumbled the words but her escort oblivious heard her for he barked out a short laugh, trying to cover it up as a cough,, though he didn’t say anything and she breathed in relief he didn’t ask. 

His mouth was curled up in a pretty smirk and that irked Lyanna as well. It really just wasn’t fair.

Her escort slowed their pace to a stop as they reached her tent, and they stood face to face, and she noticed he stood more than a head taller than her, forcing her to look up into his emerald like green eyes. He still held that smirk but it was softer, as if he had found something only he knew to be amusing.

“Thank you for escorting me Sir Jaime Lannister.” she curtsied as she was taught by her father, like a southern woman and she was proud she kept the cringe off her face.

“It’s just Jaime for you Lady Lyanna,” and he gripped her hand gently in his own and kissed her knuckles, and she saw a knight with golden hair and green eyes. “And I’m sorry I have a stupid pretty face.” 

His smirk was a grin full of perfect teeth, and as green met gray her pale face felt hot with a blush as she quickly retreated into her tent, muttering a good night. 

Lyanna heard his laughter and saw his smile long after he had begun his trek to his own tent, and she cursed as she wondered if it was the gods cruel direction that had her feeling this way.

8 8 8

It was the day of the Jousts and as Brandon and Jaime were competing the Starks and Lannisters were seated next to one another, not that Ned minded, and the way Laynna talked quickly with Cersei he thought they did not mind either. He did his best to keep his eyes focused on the jousting grounds in front of him, and not let his gaze drift to his left where Cersei and his sister sat. It would not do anything for his reputation to be caught blushing like a maiden in love at mere kisses and caresses shared in a darkened room. 

They had been found by the servants that had come in the early morning, when the sun broke over the hills, cutting through the fog that had rolled in off The Gods Eye. They seemed unfazed as they moved through the room, cleaning and clearing the signs of the party that had happened the night before. Ned and Cersei were surely embarrassed and had hurried out of the room into a lonesome hallway where they smoothed out their clothes, and checked over one another. While embarrassed when they were caught, now when they were alone, their smiles and touches were soft, and both knew rumors would likely start circulating now. 

“I would dare say, rumors will start circulating Cersei, I did not intend any such thing.” he spoke softly, as their fingers intertwined gently.

“I know, Ned.” 

Her voice was soft and they embraced quickly, before they separated, Cersei telling him it would be for the best.

Thus he had not seen her for the entirety of the day since, and now he could feel his own awkwardness between them. 

He almost jumped as he was brought out of his own thoughts by a hand curling around his. He turned his head and was smitten at the sight of a laughing Cersei Lannister. Lyanna was laughing as well, and he smiled at the sight. Lyanna had few friends, and it seemed she had found one in Cersei, and for that Ned would be forever grateful. He watched her look at their hands, and he found himself curious when she did not remove her grip, instead she only adjusted it to a more comfortable position. Ned almost let out his sigh, he could not understand women, at all.

Her grip tightened for the barest moment as her twin entered the field for his first joust. Ned watched Cersei more than the tilts, finding her much more entertaining. Her eyes widened and narrowed, and her grip strengthened and loosened as well. He whistled loudly for Jaime when Cersei clapped her hands at his victory, and Ned found himself thinking he would not mind tourney’s if she were by his side for them. 

That last thought stuck in his mind, and Ned was forced to enter his own mind once again. He was more of a thinker than his siblings, and he spent more time in his own thoughts than with others. He thought he knew himself well enough, and he knew he held some affection for the daughter of Tywin Lannister, but now he had to question just how far it went.

Ned watched as his brother and Jaime moved up the ranks, though so did Arthur Dayne and Prince Rhaegar. Ned would not say it out loud, but even if his brother was a decent jouster, he was not as good as some of his competition, who had entered more jousts than he had namedays. Either way he would root for him, though Ned would cheer for Jaime when the time came, it seemed only fitting as Cersei had given him her favor. 

When the first day of jousts were done, both Jaime and Brandon were still competing and it seemed as if the jousts would last for a couple more days, for such a large tourney had many competitors. A feast, one of the many that had already happened followed the first round of jousts, and Ned wondered just what would happen as life seemed to move quicker as the days they would be in Harrenhal grew shorter than the days they had stayed. 

As gray met green, he wondered if he would want to leave the South at all.

8 8 8

He watched with a curious eye. He may like his wine and his women, but above all he liked keeping an eye on his little siblings. Sure he was irresponsible, Ned being much more serious than he was, but he did what he wanted, and right now Brandon Stark wanted to watch shy Ned enter in a cautious dance with a she lion, while Lyanna seemed to find some of her own womanly desires and watch the pretty young lion. He thought it quite funny how his father wouldn’t really need to try and find matches for them. Though Lyanna was half promised to Robert their father was not so cruel as to truly force his lone daughter into a completely unreasonable marriage. 

Ned was oblivious to his own feelings, and perhaps even more oblivious to the fact that the Lannister woman was seemingly smitten with him. It would be funny if it wasn’t a little pathetic. He knew Ned had no real experience with women, outside of perhaps a few stolen kisses with whores. He knew, with almost certainty, Ned was a maiden and he was a little proud that his baby brother had managed to secure such a beauty as Cersei Lannister.

Lyanna, though perhaps becoming aware that she was a woman, still was young and did not truly seem to understand the flirtations of Jaime. Brandon did not know Jaime well enough to know if he was a man like him or more like Ned. He knew the boy was good with a sword, and word was he was wanted as part of the Kings guard. 

So as any good older brother would do he would nudge his siblings into the directions he thought would be best, before their father forced them in a direction that would lead them to unhappiness. He may not have had a choice but he would try to get his precious siblings one, or at least half a choice. As such he used every bit of charm he could and convinced Ashara Dayne to make Cersei jealous enough to act. Ashara was vain of her beauty and was always compared to Cersei Lannister, and a chance to take the proud lioness down a notch or two was enough of a reason for her to go along with his hidden plan.

As for Jaime he had a different plan, one that involved threats of castration and maybe he had to much wine. 

8 8 8

Her chest burned with a fury she had not known in her life. She watched as Ashara Dayne, her closest rival in beauty, dragged her Ned to the dance floor. Ned, the polite fool would not refuse, and that caused the fury to burn even hotter. How dare that whore try to take what she had her claws into. She downed three cups of wine before she even knew it, and a small pale hand placed itself on her arm, forcing her attention away from the infuriating sight before her. Her eyes met a similar shade of gray that Ned had, though they were lighter. 

“Is everything okay Cersei? You are usually much slower in drinking.” The girl's voice was quiet, maybe even embarrassed at having to ask such a question of someone older than her.

Cersei breathed harshly through her nose, letting her anger be known, as her eyes once more moved to watching Ned now laughing with the Dornish slut. Damn Ashara.

“I am fine Lyanna, merely curious as to why Ashara would choose to dance with your brother.” her eyes narrowed as Ashara moved Ned farther into the danc=ing crowd, making it harder to keep an eye on them. 

“Ashara? Ashara Dayne?” was the only words she caught from Lyanna.

“Yes, Ahsara Dayne, she is known to corrupt men with seduction.” At any other time Cersei would mean it as a compliment, but right now she was trying to do so to Eddard. Her Ned, and Cersei Lannister did not take such insults lying down.

“If you’ll excuse me Lyanna, I fear I shall need to rescue your brother and teach him to be more cautious.”

With those words and one more long pull of wine, she moved easily across the dance floor, waiting for the right moment to intervene into the dancing to rescue Eddard Stark who would learn not to play games when he held her heart. The fact that he did not know he held it did not occur to her, for she was blinded, slightly, by the feelings in her heart, and it hurt to have her little slice of happiness threatened. 

She timed it perfectly, sliding up to interrupt the flirty laugh Ashara currently was in the middle of. 

“May I have this dance Lord Stark?” her words were polite but they came out cold and venomous. She only felt slightly terrible when she saw Ned narrow his eyes slightly.

“Of course, Lady Lannister. Excuse me Lady Dayne.” Ever polite he smiled at Ashara and she had to reign in her anger that threatened to burst.

“It is no problem, Lord Stark, I had fun dancing with you, if you ever wish to dance again I will gladly accept.”

Cersei glared at the Dornish woman’s back as she moved on to the next man, and she gripped Eddard’s hand tightly as they started to move in slow circles with the timing of the song. 

“What is wrong Cersei?” his voice was deep with confusion and concern, and her heart fluttered and she wanted to curse. She was supposed to be the fury, and here he was melting her like butter. 

“What’s wrong, Ned, is that whore trying to seduce you.” her tone was barely even a whisper but she knew he heard her by the way his eyes widened and his cheeks turned red. She took smug satisfaction in the look on his face. 

“Cersei, I don’t think that was what was happening. You shouldn’t speak ill of people like that.” his voice wasn’t hard, no it was just as soft as ever and she wanted to scream and stomp her foot onto his own at his foolishness.

“You listen here Eddard Stark. I have seen her do the same thing to many men, and I _will not_ allow it to happen to you.” she was breathing harder than was called for such a slow dance, and her face was hot from anger. 

“I still highly doubt it was her plan to drag me to bed, I’m sure it was just her way of trying to get closer to Brandon or Robert.” 

She glared up at him and _accidentally_ stepped on his foot as he spun her around, and he narrowed his eyes in return, a small smile on his face as he dipped her far lower than was proper in response.

“I care not for her goal Eddard, she decided to play with what is mine, and I will not tolerate that.” she ground out the words with a sharp smile as she dared him to speak against her in this manner again. 

He of course would have the last laugh as his hands cupped her face and a quick kiss was planted on her lips as they spun to the final dying notes of the song. _The damable fool_ , was her thought as she gripped his hands and pulled him from the dance floor, uncaring of the gazes locked on them. She cared not for the rumors that would surely reach her father's ears before she returned home. 

She pushed Ned into the first empty room she came across, and moonlight filled the room as a small fire burned inside the hearth for what little warmth was needed. Green met gray and a decision seemed to be made as they met in the middle, their lips and bodies coming together with a gentle urgency, as if a damn had sprung a leak and was about to break open.

“Ned, I love you, you damn noble fool.” she said it quickly, forcing the honesty to come out in a quick breath.

Ned paused and looked into her eyes once again, a small bit of redness in the tip of his ears as his mouth moved into a small grin. 

“And I you Cersei.” 

That was the last shred of doubt, and they moved together again, the bed in the room was plush and far too comfortable as they fell into it together. Ned’s strong arms held her against him as her hands worked quickly to loosen her dress, and soon it joined his tunic on the floor. It was unfair how warm he was on her cool skin, and she shivered from the feeling. Soon their bodies were covering one another just as their clothes did on the floor. Cersei could not truly tell where she ended and Ned began, but what she did know was he was very warm, and he was hers and she would not let him go, no matter who she had to defy, and she vowed that to the gods, both old and new. 

Green met gray and their hands joined together as their bodies did, and the emotions she felt ripped through her like nothing she had felt before. 

8 8 8

She watched Cersei collect her brother, and did not miss the kiss they shared before quickly disappearing into the back of the hall and away from everyone gathered. She smiled softly, surely her brother had found someone to love him, and she sighed as she watched Robert making obscene jokes at a serving lady. She was saved from her sad thoughts as a certain golden haired, grene eyed, stupid pretty faced Lannister stepped up to her, a flower in one hand and asking for a dance with the other. 

She took one last look at Robert and smiled sweetly at Jaime, accepting the flower, putting it in her hair behind her ear, and accepted his hand for a dance. They would dance for nearly an hour, both of them taking turns leading them through the steps, and she laughed when Jaime told her jokes, and he smiled with red ears when she complimented his strong hands that easily spun her around when the tunes required. 

Dark green met light gray and in a quiet corner, with a flower in her hair she was kissed with an amount of passion she had never felt before. She really found she liked the surprised face Jaime made when her tongue poked into his mouth. 

“It seems we both have a lot to learn about one another, Lady Stark.” his voice was rough as his breathing was ragged.

“Indeed, Lord Lannister, and I’ll be more than happy to teach you, if you think you can keep up.”

As they danced, joked, talked, and laughed together, they left the hall before a certain silver haired prince could play a sorrowful tune that would have captured a lonely Northern beauties heart. 

No, her heart seemed set on a different direction, one filled with green eyes and golden hair.

8 8 8

Their journey North was a long one, and when the air turned cold the Starks seemed to breathe easier. They arrived home with more people than they had left with. A retinue of guards with the red and gold banners of House Lannister marched alongside the gray of House Stark banners.

Jaime Lannister’s horse stood next to Lyanna’s horse and she smiled as Lyanna rubbed her victory into the Casterly Rock heirs face. Though the smile Jaime sported told anyone who looked perhaps he did not mind letting her lead him around by the nose. Lyanna wore her crown of roses, that Jaime had given to her upon his winning of the Jousts, having unhorsed Prince Rhaegar in the 10th tilt. They seemed to hold affection for each other but how it would play out, none were too sure, both having blood that ran as hot as a forge’s fires. 

Gray met green and they raced off into the castle after they were greeted and dismissed by Lord Rickard Stark. 

8 8 8

Her father was madder than she had ever seen him, and she had the scars to prove the previous time she had truly angered him, as did Jaime. He was positively enraged. Yet she stood proud and fearlessly as two Wolves of the North stood behind them, as silent protectors. Cersei had informed her father that her honor had been lost, and that it was Eddard who she had given it too. She held no doubt if she had arrived alone that she would have been beaten. Yet Eddard was not as docile as rumors claimed and when her father stalked toward them, fists clenched, she felt him quickly move to stand slightly in front of her. His eyes were as cold as ice and as hard as stone. She and Jaime had flinched, and the wolves had stepped up to protect their lions. 

He had no choice but to stand down, to swallow his pride and Twin Lannister had lost a valuable piece in his games as he signed his consent for her marriage. Her heart beat hard in her chest as they left Casterly Rock, and she laughed like a woman crazed and Jaime hugged her tightly. They had beaten their father, they had won against him, and it felt as if the gods, both old and new felt it was righteous for her heart swelled with joy. 

8 8 8

Snow was on the ground, as it often was in the North. It reflected the light from the moon beautifully, and no torches were needed as the night sky was clear. The snow crunched as Cersei Lannister walked toward the Heart Tree in her dress dark red with a pattern of wolves and lions along the hem. Her golden hair was held in a simple yet beautiful braid, in a true Northern style and a single red and white flower rested above her ear. She was as beautiful to him then as she ever was, and his heart beat against his breast so hard he would not be surprised if she could hear it. 

They kneeled before the tree after announcing their vows together, and he prayed for a healthy wife, family, and life filled with love and happiness outside of duty. When they rose, they rose together, and his cloak covered her frame easily and she smiled beautifully at him.

Green met gray and together they walked forward, toward a future filled with hope.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Well there it is, hope you enjoyed it! Please review, constructive criticisms are also welcomed as are just general comments. As usual, thank y’all for reading.
> 
> Ned/Cersei has probably been the most requested pairing I received when I started this adventure with all of you. I do hope y’all enjoyed it. 
> 
> When I was doing my research on Cersei, well she’s a right bitch in canon, but I believe that’s mostly due to the circumstances she was forced into. So I thought maybe having Ned Stark be her husband would help her.
> 
> In this story, I went with a much more relaxed setting, where perhaps things could go right for everyone for once. 
> 
> In a way this story is very soft, and I liked it a lot more than I thought I would. I hope y’all did as well. Seeing a softer sort of love build between two stubborn people. 
> 
> A large portion of this Story takes place in Harrenhal. I know some of my stories feature Harrenhal, but I really dove into the tourney setting this time around, and it means a lot of the story takes place in a relatively small window of time, but as usual I’m sure my writing made it seem like it took years instead of a couple weeks.
> 
> I thought it would be interesting to have Cersei fall first, and her thoughts on what it meant for her to fall for someone like Ned (although a little different from Ned in canon).
> 
> I threw in a little bit of Jaime/Lyanna and to be honest it just snuck in when I was writing and I thought I would give it a little shot, afterall all both Lannisters have green eyes and both Starks have gray eyes. It all fit together nicely I think.
> 
> I hope I did Cersei justice, as I have stated before, I don’t have a lot of experience with GoT/ASOIF and don’t really plan on changing that, though I will continue writing these stories.
> 
> Well, It’s been about a year since the last update to NSDB. Funny how life works, it really didn’t feel like it. Life happens though and priorities change. 
> 
> With the recent shit that has hit the fan I found myself with a little bit of extra time even as an essential employee (I work in Health Care) so I decided to try and finish up a story I started way back when NSDB was still; the hot new thing. 
> 
> We’ve gone through a name change now, though I’m still the same person, I wanted to move away from my old Username for reasons. 
> 
> That’s what I've been up to. Life, work, and fun all around. I hope y’all have been good, and have been keeping safe.
> 
> Until next time.
> 
> -TDT
> 
> NSDB For Life!


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